


You're the one who makes me come runnin'

by Marishna



Series: I Touch Myself [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Camboy Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Masturbation, Nerd Derek Hale, One-Sided Relationship, Porn Video, Recluse Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:30:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He brought up his email, expecting another reminder from the publisher about deadlines and asking for another update on the status of the draft he was editing. Instead his stomach did a flip flop and his cock twitched, almost as if on command.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the one who makes me come runnin'

**Author's Note:**

> For day 8 of Merry Month of Masturbation

The cheery ping of an email alert dragged Derek out of his focus on the manuscript he was editing for a World War II fiction novel. He looked up and blinked, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose while he rubbed at his tired eyes. 

He considered trying to power through the last ... 75 pages? Never mind, he deserved a break. Bathroom and email. That's all.

He pissed and grabbed a cup of coffee from his kitchen, making a face at how stale it tasted. He only made it, Derek counted back in his head, eight hours earlier? He nuked it in the microwave before sitting down at his computer with a sigh. 

He brought up his email, expecting another reminder from the publisher about deadlines and asking for another update on the status of the draft he was editing. Instead his stomach did a flip flop and his cock twitched, almost as if on command.

He clicked the link in the email eagerly, editing could wait for now. He logged into jerkit.com, far past the point of any shame that he had a paid membership to the site. His account listed one new video for him to watch and he bit his lip in anticipation.

Derek paused it before it started to play to give it enough time to load and grabbed his lube while he haphazardly shoved his sweats down his legs. It'd been a couple weeks since the last video was uploaded so he knew it wouldn't take him long to come and it would take a couple watches before he got the whole way through. 

The guy in the videos drove him crazy.

Derek slicked up his hand and hit play, careful not to make a mess. 

The video flashed a quick legal disclaimer before fading out to a simple title card, _Stiles_.

The guy, Stiles, walked into frame wearing a pair of grey sweat pants (not unlike the ones Derek was wearing himself). He pushed them down and kicked them behind him, off camera, and turned to face the audience with a sly smile, then sat down in a simple black desk chair with arms and kicked his left leg out, his favourite position.

Derek wrapped a hand around his cock loosely, knowing this was going to be embarrassingly quick. Stiles was already hard and curved slightly toward his belly. The camera zoomed in and caught the pearls of precome starting to form at the head of his cock. 

Derek found Stiles randomly on a different video site. It was one of his earlier videos, one where the camera work was a little shakier and blurrier and Stiles was just nervous enough to give Derek a naughty thrill of watching. It was unnamed and Derek had to do a little digging to find the right attribution to him to track down more of his stuff. 

That was two years earlier and since then Derek got a membership to jerkit.com just to subscribe to Stiles' videos and little else. He didn't know what it was about the guy that made him lose his goddamn mind as soon as he saw there was something new waiting for him.

Stiles himself developed with the video quality. In his first video he had shaved hair and a rounder face, probably just 18 or so. He managed to drag that first time out to five minutes, hands fumbling and blocking the view more often than not. He would look up over the camera every few seconds and seemed to take direction from someone out of frame. 

Derek watched his hair grow out and his face thin over the years. When the company he worked for switched to a hi-def camera Derek remembered coming at the sight of Stiles' moles and how much he wanted to lick lines between them like a goddamn connect-the-dot.

Stiles was a total pro at it now. He knew where to look, when to smile, how to stroke himself and tug at his balls without disrupting the audiences' view. He rarely ever spoke to the camera directly but once he got going he would let out a run of stream of consciousness ramble, reaching a peak right before he came and his mouth would hang open while his head tipped back, exposing the long, lean line of his neck that Derek wanted to mark up like a claiming.

Derek liked how natural Stiles was, even since the production values got better. He never faked anything and Derek liked to keep that in his head when he watched instead of letting himself dwell on the likely actual truth that Stiles was just a really great actor and this was a stupid job and when he winked to the camera he was only doing it to watch his hits go up and to get more subs. 

It'd been too long since Derek had more than this relationship between himself, his hand and Stiles on his computer screen so clinging to this little bit of false reality was all he had. It was pathetic how content he was to keep it that way.

Stiles was already getting into it onscreen. He had one hand around his cock and two fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking at them while he stroked lazily. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and smirked at the camera, as if knowing how Derek's dick jerked in his hand from the sound.

Stiles dropped his hand between his legs and pulled his hips up enough to show the camera how his fingers played around his hole while he quickened his strokes. He usually just played for the camera, never used toys or even put his fingers in. Derek respected that line and it was sexy enough for him without going further but today Stiles sucked in a breath and slowly pushed the tip of his index finger inside himself.

He moaned and his eyes fluttered shut as he gently prodded his own opening, just to the first knuckle. The camera zoomed in on Stiles' hand moving over the head of his dick, spreading the wetness around that was leaking out faster. The light sound of Stiles' slick hand working over his cock head was all Derek needed and he came suddenly, jerking into his fist and hunching over while the video kept playing.

When he was able to sit back and take a deep breath Derek paused the video just as Stiles was gasping out and holding the base of his cock. That would be something for Derek to look forward to later but for the moment he had the rest of the manuscript to deal with.

He washed up and settled back at his desk, weak-limbed and satiated.

***

The next day Derek was just putting the finishing touches on the edits, readying the file to send back to the publisher. All morning there were sounds of bumping and banging coming from the hallway and he remembered that the apartment across the hall was rented after a couple months of being vacant. 

He heard the occasional muffled laugh and yell down the hall as the new tenant or tenants were moving their things in. He hoped like hell that it was just a moving day thing and they weren't going to be noisy, nosy or anything in between. Derek worked from home, sometimes had groceries delivered because he didn't want to leave and generally had a pretty good life going for himself, just the way he liked it, much to his sister's chagrin.

"She'd probably love them," he muttered to himself, thinking about the noise.

A few minutes later he heard some more noise in the hallway, some muffled shuffling and banging, then an "Oh shit!", a crash and what sounded like a bag of potatoes crashing into the wall.

Derek pushed out of his chair and made a beeline for the door, peering out the peephole. He didn't see anything so he carefully opened his door and peeked out.

There were random boxes and pieces of furniture in the hallway, and from what he could see in the apartment more things were haphazardly stacked and shoved in, waiting to be unpacked and organized. 

But amidst the boxes a body was sprawled across a couple of them and half on the floor. Derek bit back a curse and rushed to help them up.

"Hey, you okay?" Derek asked, reaching down to grab them under the arms. 

"Yeah," the guy sighed, sounding frustrated as he tried to help push himself up but he had no leverage and Derek basically picked him up and put him on his feel.

"Anything hurt?" Derek asked, looking around. He saw a picture frame tilted by some boxes, the glass now smashed out and picked it up carefully. He looked at it idly while the guy brushed himself off and jesus christ, there was the flip flop in Derek's stomach again.

Because he was looking at a photo of Stiles, a years younger Stiles, with his arm wrapped around another guy who looked about the same age and a crooked jaw. 

And there, in front of him in the flesh, was Stiles.

"Thanks, man. Tried to save it but I ended up going down with the ship," Stiles said, taking the photo out of Derek's suddenly frozen hands.

"N-no problem," he stuttered and turned red, he could fucking feel it and fuck everything.

But Stiles just grinned at him and held out his hand. "I'm Stiles."

" _What?_ " Derek burst out, because he was _sure_ that was an alias for his videos. 

"Yeah, I know. But it's way better and easier than my real name," Stiles replied, laughing a little.

"Sorry, that's not what I meant. I just. I'm just surprised. It's a name you don't hear. Ever." Derek tacked that on, suddenly nervous that Stiles would know simply by looking at him that he'd seen Stiles jerk off close to fifty times in the past couple years.

"Makes me one of a kind," Stiles replied easily and he was still grinning and oh fuck. 

Derek was screwed.


End file.
